Tears Fell Into The Ocean
by Just-Soldier-On
Summary: I'm a girl who's life has been ripped and torn from the impact of bullying. We decided to start fresh on a tiny reservation in Washington, seemingly named La Push, a place that consists of cloud and rain, a place where we barely see a ray of sun.
1. Prologue

_**So I wasn't really going to update it. But, people were sending me messages asking me for it. So... here it is. Re-uploaded, and it's also going to be changed a whole heap. But, I would just like to say to everybody- that if I do find it being plagiarized then I won't upload it again. I think I will just delete it. Thank you all for understanding my decision to take it down at the time. **_

_**I will be writing parts that was never in this story. Because when I was writing this, I only really told half the truth- because I didn't want to freak any of my readers out badly. But now, I think it should just be up. And I'm extremely sorry if it disturbs you. Because, the themes in this story is true, it does happen to a lot of people. **_

_**Brooke. **_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

Just knowing that you're hated seems to be enough, but with the torment added to it, it's pure hell. Each and every day that I walk into that plain, bitter purgatory that they call a school I face the pushing and the abuse that comes out of their mouth.

They watch with a smirk on their faces as I look down, just wishing this hell would be over. Strangely enough they say that the easiest part of your life is meant to be the time you endure at school, it's meant to be fun exciting and you're supposed to be carefree and joyous. You're not supposed to go home with bruises all over your body, you're not supposed to go home feeling sad and angry just wanting to sit in the corner of your room with nothing but frigid darkness surrounding you, dragging the scissors across your leg. But most of all you're not supposed to go home wishing your life was different.

Every day I walk into the house, my mom looks over her shoulder a questioning look on her face along with a smile that says "How was your day honey?"

But one day, I came home with tears running down my face and she saw it for herself. I thought that if I faced it, and held it all in that I would get better, but I never did. The more I bottled it up the more anger and rage I held for the humanity of this cruel world. "My baby" My mom mumbled as I came home, a bruise on my cheek. She came up to me, walking slowly her hand out as she caressed my cheek with a sad expression on her face. "Baby, why do you have all these bruises?" she wondered, looking at me, tears were welling up. She hated seeing me so upset and battered. "What happened" She murmured in my ear softly, rubbing my back as she rocked the both of us back and forth while the both of us stood up. But as she asked me what happened, the tears in my eyes couldn't be unnoticed, and it was there, noticeable. "I can't go back there. I won't go back there." I sobbed, my arm's wrapping around her tightly. "Please mom. Don't make me go back there" and as she looked into my eye's she saw past the crazy charade, the mask that I would hide behind. Each and every afternoon I would come home to my mom and younger siblings, a fake smile on my face so I could at least try and convince to them that I was happy. But it was all just a crazy mask.

* * *

People often want to know what goes through your head when you do something as "Stupid" as dragging that knife, or that razor or those scissors across your arm. People often know what it's like- so I'm going to tell you.

In my case, those words just- they just kept cascading through my head, torturing me and breaking my soul. They kept picking me apart until all I could think about was what was wrong with me. My hair, my weight, my ugliness my pale white skin colour, my personality- every single part of me is disgusting. When I picked up that razor, and held it to my wrist- I was blank. I just stared and watched as I drew it to the front and back of my wrist. I watched as the blood collect and flowed as a tiny rivulet of crimson. The pain laced my arm and the panic set in as I rushed to grab toilet paper and push it onto the cut- it was an instant release, and for that tiny moment of time- I forgot. I forgot everything. I forgot the reason why I was doing this, I forgot the words, I forgot my surroundings. All I could focus on was watching that blood seep.

As much as it helped me- it ruined me.


	2. Don't Forget Me

**A/N:**

Sorry if it's so short. You *might* of recognized some of what I written. Some of this was on my other account for another story that I deleted awhile back and I kept it. I thought it would be good on here. (: Please review if you liked it.

**Warnings: **Suicide attempt/cutting... If you feel uncomfortable reading this chapter please don't read it. The next chapter should be up by Friday.

As you probably know the story has been changed majorly. It's still going to be the same, but more information is being put into it. More situations- exactly what she went through is going to be in it instead. I'm hoping you like the change. The goal is to kind of shock people by telling the truth. I honestly still just want people to realise EXACTLY what can happen- and everything in here is true. To be entirely honest... I'm so sick of people bullying others. It honestly does ruin lives. It ruined mine so much, and even now it's ruining my friends. Who has tried to kill herself. She keeps telling me she's going to do it. And honestly, you don't want to hear that from somebody you love. You don't know how to handle it, you don't know what to tell her so you just try to be there for her as much as possible and tell her it's all going to be okay- but it doesn't work.

* * *

Dear everybody

Before I leave I need to you all something. I'm sorry. It's as simple as that.

I'm sorry to my mother for ending my life this way- I'm sorry I gave up. I'm sorry to my brother for never telling you how proud I am of you. I am and I always will be. I'm sorry to my little sister for putting you in so much pain this year, it was never my intention. But most of all I'm sorry for what you're going to feel in my absence. 

Maybe you'll lie awake at night, wondering if you could've stopped me from ending my life like I have. I'm sorry for all the pain you're going to feel. I'm sorry to whoever will find my dead and lifeless body. I'm sorry for all the tears you may shed or all of the sadness you will feel. I'm sorry that you'll spend the rest of your life feeling empty, or the nights you'll remember for the bad. I'm sorry if you die inside. I'm sorry if you can't smile for awhile. I'm sorry if you spend every day in regret wishing you could've done something... you couldn't have

I'm sorry because this was always going to happen, this was always going to be my demise. I'm sorry I had an attitude problem. I'm sorry you couldn't understand me. I'm sorry that I'm different. I'm sorry that I couldn't make the right decisions all the time.

I'm sorry to all the people in my school who had to wait this long for me to die, you've gotten your wish. I'm sorry to all my bullies. I hope one day I can forgive you. I'm sorry to my teachers for being so slow with my assignments. I'd say I'm sorry to my friends, but I don't really have any, I was just an annoying, lonely girl. I'm sorry to Michelle Cleveland for bullying you when I was younger, I guess karma hit me really good. I'm sorry to my grandmother and grandfather I always knew I'd die before you, but I guess I will see you soon. I'm sorry to all my family, this wasn't your fault.

But lastly, I'm sorry if I fail killing myself, I'm sorry for the awkwardness this will bring, I'll be sorry I'm alive. I'll be sorry for the mess and the scars I will have to hide. I'll be sorry to everyone who will have to endure me in their life. And I'm also sorry to Bobbie. I'm sorry that I have to leave, though I hope you'll be happy in your life. You're worth more than you understand. You're not fat like you have said, you're perfect the way you are. You're not ugly like you have said. I've always seen a girl with so much beauty. I can see a girl who can change the world, but the saddest part is, she doesn't even know it. I can see a girl who is broken for reasons I am unsure of. I can see a girl who is there for others even though no one is there for her I can see someone strong even though they break down when no one is around. I can see a girl with so much potential but he wastes it. I can see this girl who just needs to be understood.

Promise me you'll stop wasting all of this potential on pointless, worthless things. Make mistakes go ahead, we all do them, but do not let them change you into something you are not, let them be a lesson, learn from them. You were my super glue when I crashed into a million pieces- but some of those pieces that smashes couldn't be repaired- they were lost in my despair. You'll be alright... 

Bridget. 

"_You're such a fat and ugly freak of nature. You know something Bridget; you might as well do everybody here a favour and go kill yourself. Do everybody a favour and tie that rope around your neck. You think that people here will miss you? You want to know the truth? Nobody could give a fuck if you dropped dead, nobody wants you, nobody needs you and you should just accept that." _Her words echoed through my head as I sat in the middle of the dark, empty living room, clutching the note I just wrote to my chest, my tears created a rivulet down my face. Every now and then I could see the mesmerizing sight of lightning striking down to the earth outside.

I could feel the familiarity of the wintry wind wafting through the living room as I contemplated something I often promised myself I would never do- suicide. I closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears from spilling over as my teeth gnawed into the corner of my lip.

"_You're worthless"_

"_Ugly piece of trash"_

"_Hey, Courtney, here comes your best friend- the dorky bitch." _I couldn't stop their words, no matter how hard I tried to think of something else- their words cut deeper than any blade- they left scars, wounds and damage beyond repair.

"_I would've put her up for adoption"_

"_Did you hear she's pregnant, probably explains the weight"_

I took one look at the silvering razor inside my hand, as I urged my sobs to die down. All I could hear was their laughs, their words, their taunting cascading through my tormented mind. I just wanted it to stop- I just wanted this pain to end. As I pressed the razor to my left wrist, and then my right- I didn't think about anything else as I laid myself on the wooden floorboards, the crimson ribbons started seeping from the agape gashes.

I was mesmerized by the man-made fireworks in the sky, blue, white and purple lightning strikes. Those voices inside my head were starting to fade, but I was still wide awake on the cold, frigid ground with my seeping wounds, and the strangest part is- I felt nothing. I didn't feel the pain- I felt an immense amount of relief.

They say, death is peaceful, death will only take a second to consume you whole, but seconds managed to tick into minutes, until finally, I felt sleep- a wall a darkness overpowering me as I tried to keep my eyes open. The sound of rain was hitting the tin roof, the sound of thunder cascading through the house- but one more thing I could hear before the blackness took me into their cold, aloof hands- footsteps, gracefully running to make it too the door without getting wet.

And then there was nothing. Nothing but water, and me trying to struggle through it, trying to bring myself to the surface. It felt like I was fighting the current to get back to where I was. And than- there was a light, a light I could see through the thick, frigid water. A lighthouse, the source of light was showing me it's way back... And then in that moment I can honestly say I felt infinite, happy and fleeting as I gave in.


	3. I'm done

**You know what? I am done writing. Altogether. I've tried my hardest at writing- and I failed. I tried writing again and my writing just turned out shit. I used to really love writing, I used to like writing for my teachers, for you guys, for some of my friends... But I give up now. I don't enjoy it like I used to. And comments like this doesn't help : **_"-Yawn- Story's lame. Mary sue. Boring OC. Same spineless character. Geez people! Stop thinking of yourself as Jacob's imprint and start writing something good! ) I bet you're a seriously fat fan girl who spends your time in front of a computer screen reading or writing about thinks that aren't real. Get out and lose a couple of pounds fatty! GET A LIFE IDIOT! XD" _

**So I am done writing. I'm done pretending I am okay. I hate writing now. I hate picking up a pen, or typing out this shit that nobody likes. That's all my writing is- shit. That person isn't the first to say it. Even a teacher told me I have no imagination, and people at school. I was really naive to think that I actually could make a difference with my writing. Because I can't. And I really wish I could. I try to be strong, I really do. But I can't be strong. It's not in my nature. Sometimes I can stand my own ground, but then other times I just fall apart like something as fragile as porcelain. That's what I am porcelain. Cold, hard, but easily smashed. I have gone through way to much and I thought I was stronger. But my so call "thick skin" isn't as thick as I thought it had been. **

And to ever the hell sent that fucking message... I hope your happy... the weird thing is... I really do hope you are. Why are you such an ass? Why do you have to send these asshole messages? Do you honestly not know what can happen? Or what words can actually do? They can destroy lives- trust me I know. So I honestly hope that you fucking quit it, because one of these days your words are going to do A LOT of damage. You can do a whole lot worse then not making someone want to write.

I really am done writing.

Brooke.


	4. AN

Hi again...

I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to you guys in awhile. I must say I was extremely surprised at all of the support you guys have shown me in your reviews, and inside of some of the messages I have received. It really means a lot to me that you guys care and don't want me to give up on writing. The day I wrote that message I was extremely angry and pissed off, so I just let all my anger flow out...

To entirely honest, I was going to write a message like a week ago to all of you, but I had no idea what I was going to write. I didn't know whether I was going to continue writing this or not... I'm still not sure if I will continue after this chapter. I spent of my time at work and at school but I kept trying to think of something to say to you all- something that could really show how much I appreciated what you all wrote.

It's kind of strange how one comment can really destroy every little thing, but so many good, happy and thoughtful comments can't really lift your spirits- it's because you keep focusing on that one comment- and those words just keep going through your mind day in and day out. You try to tell yourself that you're going to be okay, but you're kind of lying to yourself because you're not sure if you're going to be. That's kind of how I felt. But over time, I just kind talked to some people- not necessarily about this, but about everything. And it was extremely good to get everything out and him not judge me for it- and hug me instead and apologise for forcing it out of me.

Anyways, I'm hoping to get a chapter out by Christmas, which is really soon. So if it's crap, I'm sorry.

Also, if you're still sending message to the person who sent that- please stop. I'm fine now, and it's really not good being on the receiving end of those messages. They apologised and I guess it was their opinion and I have to be okay with that.

But, again... thank you all for the messages of support you have no idea how much it meant to me. It meant a lot to me, I cried at some of the messages, they were really nice and I'm not used to that kind of stuff. I'm just hoping I can write the next chapter out for you all. I'm not at all saying that I will finish this story, because I may not.

Brooke.


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